Reality Crumbles
by Svetlana Morealt
Summary: After two long months, Piers is finally found. The C-Virus is unrelenting, known for sending infectees into a constant swirl of insanity. Piers is slowly becoming more and more like the monster he was shaped to be, and Chris is caught in the middle of it. Temptation turns to aggression, aggression becomes violence. Violence breeds pain. Nivanfield.
1. I'm Not Me

**A/N: I really need to stop making new series and start finishing the ones I already have in progress. ;-; This one focuses more on psychological trauma, and what kind of influence the C-Virus can have over someone infected with it. Not for the faint of heart, it won't be a happy story and is bound to feature a lot of dark content, so I'm giving a fair warning now.**

* * *

Pain was a familiar thing.

It wove itself around Piers like a slithering snake, threatening to squeeze his life away and swallow him whole. He couldn't breathe in his world of water, lungs coughing and hacking but he wouldn't pass out. An endless struggle, entrapped in a watery tomb that should have taken his life long ago. He sparked and spasmed, body lurched against the tides of his watery prison. The roots of infection had dug themselves in deep, leaving him fully aware within the depths of the ocean born hell.

He was suffocating; he should have died.

He _couldn't_ breathe; he _couldn't_ die.

The constant inability to claim a hold over his bearings kept him adrift, with no company outside of floating debris from the explosion of the facility that had taken place only too long ago.

There was no room to think.

Only pain. Only hurt.

Time no longer existed for Piers, and its length was unknown as it past him by long ago.

People, places. They were little more than far off memories, shut away in the back of his head and out of reach. He couldn't focus, he could only scream a muted wail as the pain ate away at him like some sort of disease. His movements sent ripples, unseen and unnoticed from the surface high above. He didn't know which way was up or down, left or right. He was only aware of the vast expanse of blue shimmering before mismatched eyes.

Piers didn't think of anything, his mind too encompassed within the presence of his own torment. He didn't think about his infection, about the B.S.A.A. and all that he accomplished there. He didn't think about all the dead soldiers or the lives he saved.

He didn't even think about Chris.

Yet, it was then that a miracle occurred.

The water carried him inside of it, twisting and turning him in an unwanted dance. But that's when it happened; something allowed him to break through to the surface with sand under his knees. Piers coughed and sputtered, lungs burning as they finally emptied the water they'd been drowning themselves with for so long. Oxygen burnt each time he managed to suck it in through his heaving body, throat sore from all his struggles as he crawled forward on his hands and knees to edge himself fully out of the water. His infected arm twitched and thrummed with every pulse of electricity that rippled through it, a once strong pain now dimmed down compared to his previous torment.

Once free of his imprisonment, Piers collapsed against the sand beneath his fingers and rolled himself to his back. His good eye blinked repetitively under the gaze of the moon and stars above. The area around him was quiet and comforting; the sight itself had never felt more beautiful after everything he'd endured.

Piers didn't know where he was, could hardly even remember what had happened. There were flashes, short images, but his memory had formed itself into a large blur. Thinking seemed to hurt, and all his body wanted was to rest. At last, after so many agonizing struggles, his mind folded in on itself and went blank.

Unconsciousness was a welcome thing.

* * *

Piers didn't know how long he was out.

When he came to, he was somewhere else entirely. The walls and ceiling were a dull gray, a gloomy solid hue that reminded him of the surrounding darkness within the ocean. It wasn't the same, no where near it, but it held a similar unsettling feeling that arose in his stomach.

He needed to get away.

Piers sat up with a suddenness, but hands were on him in an instant to push him back down. He squirmed under the hold, and a jolt of electricity snapped at the person to knock them away. In the absence of those hands, a second and third pair pressed themselves over him instead. He saw distorted faces; the scrubs of doctors and nurses as more people rushed inside. It only caused him to panic further, openly screaming under the pressure as restraints were woven over his arms and legs, then even his midsection.

Piers felt confined, another prison to replace the watery hell that he had only so recently come from. He was panicking, body jerking against the straps as a needle broke through his arm, weakening his attempts as the drug settled in.

No! He couldn't give in that easily!

His heart beat away a heavy rhythm to his ears, and the pulse of his arm mimicked it as he willed himself to struggle more. Piers knew that he had to fight, he had to stay awake - there was no telling what they would do to him while he was out! There hadn't even been a way to know if they'd already hurt him in the time he'd been there, he couldn't risk staying longer. He was frantic, and that caused jolts of electricity to flicker around the area, rippling across the span of lights above until they shattered into glass shards that skittered over top of the people crowded within the room.

Footsteps resounded as men and women scattered, screaming as the electricity spasmed across the area while many attempted to run to safety. Piers twisted in his position, mutation thrashing with sharpened spikes along the span of his arm, gradually cutting away at the bindings the more he struggled until at last they snapped. Lean figure sat up with a suddenness, an almost inhuman shriek emanated from the back of his own throat as his body jerked, multiple bolts of deadly light coursed from his mutation to spread further around the room, ensuring that the surrounding area was kept unsafe.

Pain rolled over the sniper in waves with every burst, but the desire for freedom and self preservation won out over his own torment as he threw his legs over the side of the table and leapt from its surface.

He needed to get out of there.

Piers could still hear the fading screams from the people as they scrambled and ran, but there were also approaching foot falls that echoed softly under the sound of his own screams. He collapsed to his knees, weak from the mixture of overexertion and whatever they had pumped into him.

Someone had crouched down next to him. Dared to place their hands over his shoulders.

Piers was on his feet in an instant, forcing the man up with him as he released an outcry, mind too jumbled to care about listening to reason as his good hand reached out, clasping a tight hold over the throat of the person. On pure defensive instinct, he threw his weight into the larger frame until it stumbled several feet backward into a wall. Piers didn't know where he was, didn't know who any of those people were.

All he knew was that he was hurting.

_Bad_. So, so bad.

Piers screamed, mutated limb raised and ready to strike-

"Piers, wait!" The man had called, both hands raising to show he meant no harm despite the grip Piers had over his throat. His sudden spur had taken a pause due to the familiarity of the voice, and Piers panted through clenched teeth as his mutated arm stilled, poised threateningly near the face of the man in his grasp. His fingers twitched over the span of neck muscles, loosening their hold enough to allow for room to talk with more ease.

"It's okay, Piers... They're not here to hurt you. They want to help," Familiar, why did he sound so familiar? Piers swallowed, still on edge and alert as people shuffled around behind him to try and get away.

"Calm down... Just try to calm down, okay? Think back. I need you to remember. Don't you recognize me?"

Piers hesitated, arm pulsing with a ripple of blue that threatened to spark toward the voice. He didn't let down his guard, nor did his grip waver or loosen any further than what he already allowed. His better judgement told him to fight, to kill for survival and flee, but his vision swam before him in a distorted blur and he had to take the risk of blinking rapidly with his good eye to try and clear it. The drugs, maybe they were what effected his sight-

He was asked to remember. Remember what? Piers could recall water, vast amounts of it; the burning in his lungs, the endless thrashing of his limbs in a struggle that he hadn't been able to win against. Before that... He had to think hard. There was a facility; he was standing in it, hurt. Infected. Ready to die.

There had been a monster somewhere outside, and Piers had felt the compulsion to kill it on a protective instinct. But why? For what? He tried to remember, and his brow furrowed under the stress. His head started to ache from having to put so much effort into it, and everything felt just out of reach.

Yet after a few determined moments, the pieces started to shape themselves together. Outlines grew more solid, details grew more noticeable. Piers observed the man in front of him as his eyes began to focus themselves, leaving behind masculine features that he recognized instantly. Mismatched eyes widened as far as his dazed state would allow, and he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not.

That face, Piers had known it well in a time before. He had to merge it with a name, something that didn't flow to the tip of his tongue as quickly as it should have. Strong, overpowering. A leader.

_Captain._

That was it.

Piers felt his arm tremble. "Captain...?" He voiced his thoughts, his throat even more sore than it had been the since he crawled out of the water - all the screaming had done a number on him.

Chris nodded once to confirm it, "That's right. You're safe now." Brown eyes never averted from mismatched ones, holding firm to the gaze that eyed him suspiciously. Chris didn't move, he didn't lower his hands in any way, so as to try and convince the younger man to relax.

Piers was tense. Unsure. Perhaps even paranoid. "How did...?" How did he get there? How did Chris find him? Piers didn't know which direction he was going in with that question. So, he settled on something slightly different, but just as important all the same, "What happened?"

"They found you," Simple enough, though Piers had figured that much out already. Clearly. But who were 'they'? Did it really matter? He was safe now, wasn't he? He didn't feel like it. "The tide eventually pulled you to shore. We were called in to retrieve you and bring you back. You're home, Piers."

Home. Piers hadn't thought of home for a long time. How long? He didn't know, he wasn't even sure he cared. Piers struggled with the reality of everything, not quite believing what he saw and felt around him, if it was even real or if he was already dead. Was he dreaming?

Fingers tightened their grip at the thought, arm flickering back to life with sparks of energy. "How do I know that?"

Chris instinctively clutched at the hand around his airway, "We can show you! Piers, please-"

More footsteps. Several men filed into the room, weapons aimed at the ready, "Back up!" One of them shouted, only serving to irritate the confused sniper further. Currents of electricity snapped through the air, and multiple fingers twitched over their triggers.

"Wait!" Chris was the one to call it out, forced behind the pressure over his throat. "Piers, I wouldn't hurt you. You know that! Calm down!" He insisted, voice raspy.

Piers hesitated, gems of hazel and gray darted between Chris and the soldiers, as if in a heated debate with himself.

Dots started to align themselves over the Captain's vision, and he had to blink to try and remain focused. "_Piers_..." The name had the ace settling his eyes on the older man.

The soldiers didn't appear to have the same amount of patience or concern. "Back away, or we open fire!"

"Just shoot him! You saw what he did to those people!"

Piers was still tense, prepared for the worst until Chris had spoken again, "We take care of each other. Remember?" Piers paused at that, electricity faltering as mismatched eyes stared into brown. Piers was a monster, a disgusting, grotesque creature. If they took care of one another, how was it he had ended up that way?

_"Piers! No, don't do this!"_

The sniper snapped backwards, pulling himself free of the older man as his body surged with more energy. His good arm wove itself around his midsection, seeking even the slightest comfort in his world of pain.

Chris. He had been protecting _Chris_-

"Piers!" Chris was back on him in an instant, catching the ace as his legs gave out and collapsed under him. Strong arms held firm as Piers was slowly lowered to the floor, and they never left even as the electricity snaked over muscled biceps and had them both screaming in a shared agony.

Piers wasn't sure how long it lasted before everything had gone dark.

* * *

_"He isn't safe to be around."_

_"We can't just let him go after this!"_

_"We don't know how many people he could kill if we let him free!"_

Voices, both men and women. Unfamiliar in sound.

Doctors, nurses; they were in a different room, shielded off by thick walls. Yet somehow, Piers could hear as though the sound emanated from within the confines of his own skull, screaming a chorus in his head.

_"We have to keep him under guard."_

_"It would be better to just kill him outright."_

Kill him outright. Kill him outright.

_Kill, kill, kill._

Mismatched eyes fluttered prematurely, Piers could feel the traces of another liquid as it pumped through his veins. He shouldn't be awake but his body adapted, it gained an immunity.

Curious.

Restraints had been put back into place, for what good it would do. These ones were larger in size and number, the people who had him in custody wanted to keep him docile. Still, the new restraints wouldn't be able to contain him anymore than the previous ones.

Piers could hear a heartbeat that wasn't his own increase its pump, "Piers? How are you-... You shouldn't be-" Chris. He was back again, also conscious.

Piers wondered how long he'd been out. "You were wrong." The words were stern, cold. They cut their way from his throat like acid, the tone accusing as he interrupted the older man. Mismatched eyes found their way to the side where they could meet with brown.

Chris had no idea what he meant by that. "Wrong? Piers, you-"

"Shh," Piers insisted before the words had finished their sentence.

_"We just won't release him. We should still keep him for study-"_

_"It's not worth the risk! You saw what he did!"_

Plump lips curled at their corners, a lifeless smirk left its mark over them as the mutated sniper listened in. Confused, Chris stood up from his seat to edge himself closer with slow, unsure movements. "Piers-"

"Does this look like I'm _safe_ to you?" The ace queried as his head tilted against the pillows to eye the Captain from a different angle. "They're already trying to get rid of me." He warned, tone suddenly unnervingly calm.

Chris didn't understand. He couldn't. He partially wondered if perhaps the drugs were responsible for the way Piers had acted, but after their last meeting, he wasn't so sure.

"Help me."

Calm. Hopeful. Pleading. None of those things should ever fit together, and yet all of them were packed into the sniper's tone. He didn't look worried or hurt, just... Indifferent. _Vulnerable_. "You can do that, can't you?"

"Piers... No one is going to hurt you." Chris tried to convince the younger man, who refused to believe him.

Piers lightly shook his head, "That's only what they told you."

_"We can talk it over with the others. We'd be a lot safer if that... Thing, is terminated."_

Chris furrowed his brow, he wasn't sure what Piers was trying to say. As it was, he shouldn't have been conscious after all the injections they pumped into his system to keep him out so he couldn't hurt anyone.

Mismatched eyes slid closed, "You'll see." The sniper stated dryly, "They're coming."

They? "Piers, who are you-" Chris was cut off again as the knob to the door turned and opened the way for the doctor, who he glanced to as she entered and took a place on the opposite side of the mutated soldier.

How did Piers _know_?

The doctor frowned, "That's not right..." She uttered as she checked the different machines. She blinked and looked down toward the sniper as more of her colleagues filed into the room. "We have to move him. He won't be properly secured here!" The woman exclaimed as the other bodies pushed by to aid her, giving Chris little choice other than to back away a few steps. She pointed a finger at the Captain, "_You_ need to leave." She was anything but kind about it.

Right, "What's going on?" Chris wanted to know. The man they had on that table meant a hell of a lot more to him than just another soldier on the field, and he'd be damned if he let something bad happen to him.

"We can't tell you right now until we can study his condition more." It was a half-lie, and Chris wasn't buying it.

He stepped closer, "We were under the agreement that nothing bad would happen to him. I want to be sure of that." He was stern, traces of his stature as Captain made themselves known.

The doctor sighed, "We don't have time! If he's awake now, he's proving to be resistant to the drugs. We can't risk him getting free, so we're going to move him to a more secure area under guar-"

"Where those men will be more than happy to shoot him at the slightest sign of trouble." Chris cut her off, he knew where things were going. Perhaps Piers had been right, after all.

The doctor insisted on denying it, "Of course not! We'll take care of him and see what we can do to cure his infection."

Lies, lies, all lies!

Piers could hear her voice crawling within his own head!

_He deserves to be put down like the beast he is. First we'll remove his arm, get rid of that damn electricity. Then we can cut him open, take the insides while he's still conscious. Test the pain levels, see how extensive the regeneration is-_

Mismatched eyes snapped open and sought out the doctor, who gasped under the force of his gaze. "You're lying." Piers stated simply, his tone little more than a whisper in volume.

_Crazy fiend! Can't wait to get rid of it._

Piers lifted his head from the pillow as far as the restraints would allow, and the doctor found herself instinctively backing away. "I can hear you." The way he spoke the words had a chill coursing down her spine.

The woman swallowed and motioned toward Chris, "You see? He isn't well! We don't know what he's capable of and it isn't safe for us to keep him here!" She threw aside her pride in a feigned apologetic demeanor, "Please, _please_. Let us do our jobs and try to help him."

Chris seemed to hesitate, torn between the sight of Piers behaving so strangely, and the sudden change in the doctor's attitude. He didn't want to leave Piers, not after all they'd been through now that he was finally home. But if the doctor was telling the truth... He almost wasn't sure which to believe.

"Captain," The voice had brown eyes lowering themselves back to the sniper. Piers looked horrible laying there like that. Maybe he _was_ sick, maybe his mind was twisted into a knot. But he was still Piers, still the man who had been so willing to freely give away his own life for Chris. That was all the Captain cared about, it was all that mattered to him.

With a new resolve, Chris turned back to the doctor. "If you're just moving him, there's no reason I shouldn't be able to come with."

The doctor scoffed, "There's no way-"

Chris was quick to cut her off, "It's either that, or I walk out of here and take him with me." Even if Piers wasn't in his right mind, even if he was just imagining things... Chris had to be there. Had to make sure.

The woman pursed her lips, "Fine. But once we prep him for surgery, you'll have to leave. We have to try and get the infection out and you'll only get in the way."

It was a start, and Chris gave a single nod as his gaze dropped back down to Piers who appeared more relieved. Mismatched eyes fluttered, now partially at ease with the knowledge that his Captain wouldn't be far away.


	2. Monster

**A/N: Here we go, I had a busy couple of weeks and decided that the best way to come back was for me to work with crazy!Piers. x3**

* * *

The new room was practically a prison cell.

It was guarded thoroughly both inside and out, enough to ensure that no normal individual could slip away; however, Piers Nivans had not been normal since the day that one particular needle broke through his skin. They were blocking him off, isolating him from witnesses. Chris had been the only outsider to remain nearby at all times, cautious about what the doctors had planned. His trust was beginning to diminish quickly, although he also remained rather unsure of just how bad Piers' condition was. In the end, his soldier was still far more important to him than any of their damn studies. Chris thought Piers had died once, for _him_, and he had every intention of preventing that from happening a second time.

Piers would live. Chris would accept nothing else, even if he was infected.

That's why when the time had come despite the recent move that was made and the doctor went back to insisting that he leave, Chris again refused.

"You can't stay here this whole time! We need to prepare him for surgery and we can't have you standing around for that!"

Chris already had about enough of that woman. The room was sealed off from the rest of the building, but there were walls of glass within the area to allow curious eyes a chance to study from afar. More proof that the doctor had not been honest with him. "You have windows all over the damn place meant for observation, and you want me to wait in the lobby? That's my partner on that table, _doctor_!"

"We have no way of knowing whether that glass would efficiently protect-"

"Bullshit," The Captain cut her off before she could finish another one of her excuses. "I go where he goes. It's as simple as that." No more games, Chris was tired of her nagging. There wasn't even the slightest chance that he would abandon Piers.

"I'm afraid it's not." The doctor spat as she spun on a heel and strode over to the wall where her fingers tapped away at a small panel on its surface somewhere off to the side of the B.S.A.A. soldiers.

Piers shifted on the bed, tensing under the restraints that pinned him down. _Testing_ them as he listened to her thoughts, her movements.

_No more delays. This dance is getting old._

Echoing foot falls sounded as they padded their way through the halls outside, and shortly after the doors opened with a handful of armed guards that pushed through. The doctor motioned toward them, "Captain Redfield," She spoke the name and rank as though it were a bad taste on her tongue. "I'd advise you to stop fighting this and go with these men."

There were repeated clicks as the weapons were cocked and readied behind the Captain, who barely offered a glance over a shoulder before his eyes were back on the doctor. "No," It was a simple answer, firm in the making. Chris would not leave Piers.

The doctor was seething, "I've given you enough chances! We have work to do, but you keep persisting on getting in the way! Get him _out of here_, I don't care what it takes." She motioned again toward the men and stepped closer to the mutated sniper, who looked passed her toward his Captain. Hazel found the empowering musculature of the older man, who had finally turned his attention to the guards that reached out for him.

Reality seemed to blur itself.

There was a collision; a powerful smack as large knuckles swung themselves into the jawline of one of the guards with an ensuing crack that had the man toppling off his feet. Piers could see fingers as they twitched over their triggers, fully prepared to fire and damage his Captain.

_No!_

They would not take Chris away. They would not separate them again.

The lights flickered and popped, resulting in the doctor dropping herself to the floor as tendrils of electricity swam through her. Small figure jolted uncontrollably under the pressure that invaded her, and the hateful eyes of a monster masquerading as a woman rolled back in their sockets. Flashes of blue light danced around her, attached to each of her limbs so they could hold her as though she was some horrific puppet. Unsteady feet pushed her toward the guards with one heavy plop against the floor at a time, and weapons redirected themselves with barrels now aimed in the doctor's direction. Chris had dived out of the way the moment gunfire resounded, causing the petite woman to jerk furiously against the electric strands holding her upright as almost inhuman screams filtered through the span of her throat where they died off with a gurgle.

Still held up by the puppeteer's strings, the charred corpse swung with a steaming arm that latched itself to one of the guards, consuming him in an electric chain reaction that forced him off his feet. Already loud outcries from the man grew further in volume as teeth bit over tongue, the damning reflex of human nature that had the slick muscle dangle from a single fleshy strand between his lips. Breathing was hindered, heart stopped under the swimming light coursing through the body that moved only under the waves of electricity. The first of the guards to meet an untimely fate not at all dissimilar to the doctor.

Strings of blue pulled, and the feminine frame lifted itself. Another onslaught of open fire was released with panicked cries as the men all witnessed something humanity should have never laid their eyes upon.

Behind her, a mutated limb from the bound sniper tore itself free from its imprisonment under the many straps aligned across his body. With several quick slashes over those remaining, the lean figure rose from the mattress as the electricity recoiled back toward him, allowing the body of the doctor now riddled with holes to fall into a heap on the floor.

The guards had stopped, awe struck as the ace repositioned himself before them into a stand with flickering blue tendrils sparking along his flesh, followed by mismatched eyes of hazel and gray that stared long and hard between each of the men. Plump lips curled back in a sudden snarl that showed an unnatural mixture of both pearly whites _and_ decaying, rotting teeth from the infection as weapons raised again, now centering on Piers as the next target.

"Piers, don't do this!"

The sound of his Captain's voice was a dull buzz at the back of his mind as his body lit up with a blue hue, spasming when jolts of lightning shot free to skitter amongst the guards as they clenched their fingers over their triggers. Bullets flew, many of them broke through mutated flesh and only served to enhance the power of electricity as screams resounded until all of the bodies hit the floor in a clutter. It hadn't taken long at all.

Blue faded away as Piers collapsed to his knees, his figure quivering from the stress with heaving breaths. Chris eyed him from the side, shocked into a temporary silence while he slowly returned to a stand with feet that took hesitant steps toward the mutated sniper.

"You just..." He managed to choke out as brown eyes swept over the limp bodies of the newly deceased. Not a one of them men managed to survive the insanity. "You _killed_ them."

Piers shifted on the floor with a groan as his head canted to the side, gaze redirected toward his Captain. "I didn't survive just to-" There was an unsteady hitch in his breathing as another wave of blue rolled over him, and the odd mixture of teeth clenched themselves tight to each other; this time from the agony of his flickering arm. "-be someone's lab rat." Pain was a continuous thing for the young ace now, the poor soul was overcome by the infection and all it sought after was to cause harm; both to the host and to the prey.

Chris shook his head as he came to a full stop next to Piers, and the muscled frame lowered itself into a crouch so that he could level his gaze with mismatched hues. "Those were still people, Piers." Quiet, hurt, unsure. Even if they were in the wrong, Piers would have never... Something was wrong. So _terribly_ wrong.

A hand snapped out; normal and whole to grab at the Captain's shirt and pull him even closer where breath had become a shared pleasure. "They would have hurt us," Nimble fingers tightened their grip over the folds of clothing, and Chris reached out to clutch a hold over Piers by the wrist.

"I wasn't going to let-"

"They'd have shot you, killed you, left you in a heap to _rot_." The words were rushed but forceful, insistent that they register to the Captain's mind. "They wanted to experiment, Chris."

Meaty hands lifted from their current positions to land over the sniper's shoulders and squeeze. The mutated limb felt slick and slimy under his touch, thrumming with small vibrations as his palm was pressed against it. "...What happened to you?" Did the virus really cause such an instability?

Piers released his hold to brush away the hands over him, and he pushed himself back to his feet with soft pants as his body shook under constant ripples of agony. "We need to leave before more come. You're not safe here."

You, not we.

The term didn't go unnoticed.

Chris followed him, body raised to it's full height from the floor. "You're hurt, you can't just-"

"We can go together this time."

Those words meant so much more than anyone else would have given them credit for. The two of them were still in danger, but there was no barrier blocking them from each other. Piers was alive, standing so close and _breathing_ near him - Chris never would have thought he'd see the day where they could meet again. Yet there they were, sweaty, panting messes who stared long and hard at one another.

Chris had a choice.

He could stop things there, find Piers the help he needed which would more than likely result in further testing and bastard doctors; but Piers might have been cured given enough time.

Or, Chris could throw it all away. Take the figuratively offered hand that Piers was holding out for him, and they could make their own way free from intrusive tests. But Piers may never improve, there was always the chance that he wouldn't be the same for the rest of his life.

Yet, some part of the sniper still had to be in there, left over. _Somewhere_. Chris just had to do some heavy digging.

"Okay," He finally answered with a nod of his head.

Plump lips lifted at their corners, clearly satisfied with the decision as Piers reached out with his good arm to clasp a hold around one of his Captain's hands. He turned with a soft pull, a silent instruction to follow his lead.

Chris couldn't deny him that any longer, and the heat from the digits intertwined with his own set him at ease. Piers was back, and damn it if he'd let anyone take him away again.

"Wait," Chris paused in his tracks before they stepped fully over the steaming bodies, and Piers eyed him with a curious glance. The Captain bent down to retrieve one of the fallen rifles from the floor as a precaution, and Piers reluctantly parted their fingers to allow the proper use of it.

Chris motioned toward the door, "For just in case." He wasn't a murderer, but perhaps he could wound any further guards rather than let Piers kill them instead. Even if it was undeserved, he wasn't a monster and he would sooner die before he let Piers become one.

Thudding boot steps marked along the length of the halls as they left the room in search of an exit.

_"Didn't you hear that? The lights were flickering again, too!"_

_"Check on the patient! I want a status report, now!"_

The right. The voices were coming from the _right_. Piers slowed, coils of blue snapped along the span of his arm as Chris halted behind him. "What are you-"

"They're on the way. Ahead of us, around that corner." Piers motioned with a jerk of his head, mismatched eyes never leaving the pathway before them.

Chris stared at him with a look somewhere between confusion and surprise. "Piers, how can you know that?" He'd wanted to ask earlier when the doctor had come in on cue. Piers had called that one out, and he was right then. The sound of foot falls told Chris that the ace had been correct for a second time that day.

"They were talking. I _heard_ them," It was a curt statement as Piers prepared for an upcoming fight until a hand placed itself to his good shoulder.

"We can find another way around, or wait until they pass." No more senseless killing, no more murder even if the men and women deserved it.

"How many other people are they going to try this with? We can't just let them-"

"You're not thinking straight!" Chris cut him off and tugged the sniper into one of the nearby rooms to avoid detection. He held Piers there against the wall, who drilled him full of holes under the heat of his gaze. "No more deaths. Okay?" It was a whisper now, and footsteps thudded past the room outside.

Piers seemed disappointed and angered by the words, intense gems of hazel and gray narrowed themselves. "If they stop us, they'll kill you and take me back! I'm _not_ staying here. I'm _not_-"

Piers nearly sounded frantic, his tone rising with every word. Chris had to speak up and interrupt before the sniper's voice grew to volumes that would give away their position. "Together. We'll still leave together." Piers seemed to pause at that, the narrow to his gaze slowly lifted as what the Captain had said sunk itself in. As an afterthought, Chris added, "That's what you wanted, right?"

Piers stopped to consider. He was angry for what those people did, for what they _tried_ to do... Yet the fact that he and Chris would get out of their predicament together was the only reason he found himself relenting. "Fine," The ace uttered as he turned his head, keen hearing listening in on the retreating foot falls that were guided toward the room whence they came.

Piers perked up when a hand was guided to the side of his head, a thumb placed to his cheek. Mismatched eyes found their way back to brown as Chris nodded, "Good."

Piers didn't want him to move or retract. He didn't want Chris to back away and part them. The Captain seemed to hesitate along with him, for the first time in forever Chris had chosen to take a few seconds to himself and stay there despite the chaos around them, all to live in the moment of a temporary closeness neither one of them had ever dared to breach further.

But time wasn't on their side, and the threat of approaching dangers kept them both on alert; they had to escape.

"Let's go," Chris pulled away at last, albeit reluctantly. He made a move toward the door, fairly sure that they were in the clear again as Piers shifted away from the wall to follow with skin that suddenly felt too cool in the absence of the Captain's touch.

Back in the hall again, this time it was Chris who led them down each corridor. Piers would stop him on occasion with an outstretched limb if he heard anyone approaching, which happened quite often and never ceased to boggle the mind of the Captain.

Piers seemed rather quick on his feet despite his mutation, fueled by the desire to escape with Chris. There were no more infected there in that facility as it had been in the underwater one, it was people they ran from to get away. People who acted no differently than those monsters, and none of them deserved to keep their lives.

But Chris had asked him not to hurt or to kill anymore of them. Piers still felt the compulsion, yet as mismatched eyes gazed ahead of him at his Captain, that was all that mattered. Even if Chris had nearly been on the receiving end in all the confusion and the sniper's current state of mind. Piers could think again, he knew who Chris was, he remembered everything now that he was given such a lengthened reprieve from the madness he was drowning in for so long at the bottom of the ocean.

They took the stairs, a much safer route than the elevator although they still had to remain on guard. They were fortunate enough to not find any further trouble until they reached the main lobby, where at least a half dozen guards awaited them. Chris froze the moment they rounded into them, brown eyes switching between each of the aimed weapons as his fingers twitched over his own. Piers took a position beside him, his appearance alone more than enough reason for their attention to turn toward him instead. He stepped forward a short distance to put an arm up in front of Chris, insistent that the Captain let him be his shield.

"Stand down, the both of you." The leading guard demanded.

Piers eyed him with an icy glare, the last remaining barrier to their freedom. They were too close to stop now. Chris nudged at his arm, trying to convince him to follow through with the agreement that he'd made earlier. Piers didn't falter as he moved even closer to the guards and away from Chris, allowing his hand to fall away now that the older man was hidden a distance behind him. "You can still leave." Piers informed the soldiers, even as he wanted to kill them, _burn_ them, make them scream.

"Stand. _Down_." The man repeated, and plump lips gained a twisted curvature as sparks began to fly about the mutated sniper's arm renewed.

"I gave you a chance."

"Piers, no!" Chris screamed from somewhere behind him, but it was too late. The mutated limb lifted itself high and the room was blinded with a familiar blue hue as tendrils of electricity spasmed between the men, just as it was with the others. Bodies jolted and screamed as the lights popped and blew around them, until at last they crumpled without movement when the bright blue color cleared itself away.

The Captain dropped the gun in his grip where it was left to clatter to the floor, suddenly ignored. "Piers... You said you-"

"I had to," Was the only offered explanation as the sniper panted. Long legs began a stride forward toward the doors that paved the way to their escape, and Chris reluctantly followed behind thinking that perhaps, just perhaps, he was making the worst mistake of his life.


End file.
